So sorry it's taken this long for another chapter! I was really busy for a while, and just last night I was up til one doing physical inventory for a store I'm hoping to land a job at. This is the third to last chapter of the arc, so far as I know. Do not own Hetalia or Avatar, hoping you enjoy!


The door to Li's room—she was having a hard time thinking of it as a cell, because in her experience cells didn't have nice beds or sofas—swung open with a loud creak of its hinges. Li had been dozing on the couch, and immediately sprang to full awareness at the sound. Two men armed with guns entered, and one of them gestured for Li to stand up.

What now? Li asked Ru-voice.

Do what they want, see what happens, came the reply. And you're asking the voice in your head for advice now? Really?

"Come with us," the guard spoke, his words heavily-accented words. Unsure if she should trust them, and wary of her leg, Li rose to her feet. She winced as she put too much pressure on her wounded leg, gritting her teeth so she wouldn't give away how much it hurt to her captors. The stronger she appeared, the better: any perceived weakness could be an opening for them to exploit.

"Where are we going?" Li asked the moment she was on her feet. Neither guard responded, but they gestured with their guns for her to follow them. Hesitant, partially because walking hurt her leg, Li took a few steps forward. A hiss of breath escaped her lips at the ensuing pain, and she screwed her eyes shut to focus on blocking out the fire in her thigh.

"Hurry up!" someone snapped from outside the door. Li gritted her teeth against further slips and resolutely set her foot forward. The pain was bad, but bearable. She knew old soldiers who had talked about fighting with injuries worse than hers. If they could brave it, so could she.

Her guards didn't seem to think Li was walking fast enough, so they lowered their guns, grabbed her arms, and began to force-march Li out of her room and down a hallway. The pace they set was fast, with only their firm grips on Li's arms keeping her from stumbling. She cried out when one of them dug his nails into her arm and drew blood, then again as she put too much pressure on her injured leg and almost collapsed.

"Where are we going?" Li tried to get them to talk. Neither answered. The building they were in didn't seem too large, as the hallways were short and turned often. Once they went down a flight of stairs, and twice they went up: eventually they emerged into the open air.

So long spent locked in a cell made the sunlight feel brighter than usual to Li, who shut her eyes against the glare. The warmth of the sun on her skin was a familiar, missed feeling. If she could have, Li would have lingered, absorbing the sun's warmth and letting its comforting presence burn away her unease. But the guards urged her on, and Li was forced towards a nearby building.

Quick, take note of where you are, Ru-voice advised. Li's eyes darted around, trying to take in as many details as possible before she was shoved into the other building. It looked like she was in a compound, with high walls and guards patrolling everywhere. The buildings were ramshackle, with rough outer walls and few windows. Nothing more registered with Li before she was inside again, being led down another short hallway and up a pair of stairs.

They stopped in front of an opening in the wall, hung with a few curtains. One guard called something in that foreign language they all spoke, and someone beyond the curtain responded. "Get in," the guards released Li and shoved her towards the doorway. Caught by surprise, Li stumbled forward, landing awkwardly on her injured leg.

"Dammit!" Li swore, clutching her leg. Pain throbbed outwards from the healing wound. Tears welled up in her eyes, instinctive reactions to the discomfort and hurt. So distracted was Li by the pain, she failed to notice anything about her surroundings until a man spoke.

"Welcome." Li's head jerked up. She saw an old man, his face tanned and wrinkled, with a long white beard. He had a piece of cloth wrapped around his head, the color matching that of his long robe. His legs were crossed, and he rested against a small pile of pillows. Two more men, both armed with guns, flanked the older man. A glance at the door confirmed that the two men who had escorted Li there hadn't followed her in. The old man was looking at her with disdain.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Li pulled her legs out from under her, keeping her eyes fixed on the old man. Everything in the room seemed to be centered around him. He was the man in charge, and thus, the man to watch.

"Can't you guess?" the old man's lips curled up. He rested his chin on one hand. The other hand picked up a small cup from a tray beside him. Instead of drinking, he swirled the liquid in the cup around.

Li's eyes were drawn to a window on the left side of the wall. Light was streaming in at a low angle—she thought, from the sun's position, it was nearly sunset. That was bad for her, if things turned ugly. Firebenders gained strength as the sun rose, and lost it as the sun set. Obviously it was just a coincidence that they had chosen to take her here now, when she was losing the sun's boost in strength, but it was an unnerving coincidence.

Noticing Li's gaze, the old man nodded. "It's nearly nighttime." He raised the cup to his lips and drank before continuing. "Which means it's morning in America."

"So?" Li rubbed her leg in an attempt to dull the pain. It wasn't very effective, but it gave her hands something to do and her brain an outlet for the nervous energy building up in her body. She experienced a brief moment when she thought she might burst, and then it passed, leaving Li with a strange sense of detachment. The sensation was hard to describe…like she was watching herself from someplace else, a numbness spreading through her body and dulling all her senses.

"Do you know what time it is in your home?" the man stroked his long beard.

"The exact time? No," Li shifted backwards. Something about this old man made Li uneasy.

"Sad. Well, what can you tell me about your home?"

You're screwed, Ru-voice observed. Lie like your life depends on it.

"Uh…well, it's in America…" Li's mind raced. Her time in New York had been spent in America's penthouse, watching movies and television or playing games. "New York City is pretty big. I don't get out much, I spend a lot of time inside."

"Doing what?"

"Oh…movies, television, video games," Li searched her memory for what she knew of America. "I just got a new Playstation 3." Well, America had, but they didn't need to know that.

Her answers satisfied the old man, as he stopped asking questions and began to study Li. She could feel his gaze as it moved over her, real as a physical touch. The man's eyes lingered on Li's injured leg, the bandage stained red. "Does that hurt?" he gestured to her leg.

Li glanced down at it. "Not so much," she lied.

Make eye contact when you lie, and sound firm, Ru-voice reminded her. Li lifted her head and stared the man in the eye.

"It's only bad when someone touches it," Li removed her hands from her leg and lifted her gaze. "Or when I fall on it. The doctor did a good job."

"Did he, now," the man's eyes narrowed. "How quickly are you healing?"

Crap. "Fast enough," Li's mind scrambled to recall if a Nation had ever mentioned healing at a different rate than humans. She didn't think so? Um, Italy had mentioned that their economy going bad could give them a cold? Well, vagueness was best, right? "I've had worse."

"Really? I imagine you must have." The man's forehead furrowed slightly. His hands were clasped in front of him, the thumbs tapping against each other. Li had no idea what he was thinking, and that scared her.

Should she speak up? Would a Nation speak up? Her leg hurt. Li's palms were sweaty, her heart was beating fast, and her stomach felt heavier than a boulder. Ru-voice wasn't telling her anything. This was exactly the sort of situation Ru had tried to prepare Li for her whole life, but Li was too scared to think straight. Doubts and fears and worries swirled through her mind, barely hidden under a calm exterior.

Li realized she was staring at the floor. Her eyes should be on the leader. She lifted her gaze. The man was studying her, his dark eyes intense. Had she ever seen eyes that dark? They frightened her, made her blood freeze. Even Gege's eyes weren't as dark.

Even worse was knowing that she was at the mercy of these people, this man with the dark eyes. Li sat on the cold floor shivering, wondering if she could keep up the act, knowing she was terrible at lying and slightly amazed she'd managed to keep them believing her this long.

Her thoughts turned to her friends, the ones in her world. She had never missed them more than in that moment. Their faces were clear in her mind. Though the Fire Nation put little emphasis on religion, Li sent a silent prayer to the spirits Pele and Agni, a plea to see her friends before she died.

Li's vision blurred. She wiped at her eyes, but the tears came despite her best efforts, and before she knew it she was crying her eyes out.

The man looked strange when Li started crying. He glanced behind Li and nodded. Someone seized Li and pulled her to her feet, bruising her shoulders in the process. Her leg twisted just as she was set on her feet, sending waves of pain up Li's body. When the inevitable yelp came, the man's lips twitched upwards.

That was when the fire sparked. Li suddenly stopped feeling sorry for herself, and started getting angry. Who was this man to laugh at her pain? If she was still in her world, he would be crawling on the ground begging for her forgiveness. She was a Princess of the Fire Nation, and she would not be laughed at like this!

It was clear when her demeanor changed. Before she was pale, drawn in on herself. Then, without warning, blood rushed to her cheeks. Her fists clenched. Though it was already warm in the room, the temperature rose to stifling. Li could feel the heat in her hands, warmth spreading out from the inner fire of her heart.

But the flames were fueled by anger, and even before she created a single lick of fire, she knew she could not control it. Every part of her screamed to burn this place and everyone inside until ashes were all that remained. Nothing would make her happier.

Burn them, and you'll die in the blaze, with all the innocent people in this building, Ru-voice spoke up at last. Her words were exactly what Ru would have said, exactly when she would have said it.

Ru. A tendril of guilt wormed into Li's thoughts. It would disappoint Ru if she heard that Li foolishly killed herself by letting her emotions spiral out of control. Hadn't Ru taught Li that control of one's emotions was everything? Not just in Firebending, but in politics, in mourning, in fighting an enemy.

With a calming breath, Li marshaled her emotions and quelled her anger. The room's temperature dropped. In front of Li, the old man with dark eyes seemed satisfied. He had noticed how Li's anger made the room heat up, Li realized. Had he been provoking her, hoping her fear or anger might show something unnatural about her that would affirm her status as a Nation?

"Are you hungry?" Li blinked at the old man's question. What did he care? "We can arrange for a meal now, if you would like."

"No thank you," Li automatically declined. Eating alone in her cell was one thing: eating with her captors was another. There was an inherent risk in both options, and turning down the latter option might not be a good idea, but Li preferred eating alone to eating with people she didn't know. That went double for when the people she didn't know were her captors.

"Very well," the man nodded. "Do you have any requests for your next meal?"

Li paused. America seemed to thrive on what he called "junk food," which Li found tasteless at best. These men thought Li was the personification of New York. Asking for something America would eat was the safest bet. Maybe she could request pizza? Of all America's favorites, that was the one Li preferred. But America's favorite was burgers from McDonald's, with lettuce and tomatoes and bacon and extra pickles.

She needed to make a decision fast. "A Big Mac," she suggested to the old man. His lips twitched upwards again. Emboldened at the thought that she had given a good answer, Li continued. "And can you make it a large? With extra everything? Maybe ice cream on the side?"

A small, smug smile broke out across the man's face. "There is no McDonald's here," he informed Li. "We are many miles away from the nearest one."

"Oh." Li forced a crestfallen look onto her face. "Then…just a burger?" Pause, and… "With ice cream? And a large soda?" They were buying it. Somehow, Li was pulling it off.

"Of course, of course," the old man waved a hand. "Why don't you go back to your room now? We can speak once your leg is healed more. Clearly you are in no state to answer questions now."

As the guards marched Li out, helping keep her weight off her bad leg, she felt optimistic. Nobody had killed her, and she'd kept herself from killing everyone. It looked like they were buying it. She was doing a good job of this.

Once she was out of the room, Osama bin Laden turned to the man on his left. In Arabic, he said, "Investigate her. Find out if she is indeed the American state of New York."

"What if she isn't?" the guard asked, also in Arabic. Osama narrowed his eyes.

"If she isn't, find out what she really is. And if she is not a Nation, dispose of her."


At the very edge of the Middle East sits Pakistan. It shares a good portion of its border with India: indeed, Pakistan used to be a part of India. A concentration of Muslims in the area led to a string of riots and unrest, and eventually the formation of a new Nation, in the late 1940s.

Pakistan might have been young, but she didn't let that stop her from disrespecting her elders: Afghanistan was on the verge of declaring war by the time they arrived in her capital of Islamabad. America was too busy laughing over how her capital's name could, in the English language, be mangled into sounding like "Islam bad." The other Middle Eastern nations were not as amused by America's observation as he was. Saudi Arabia had long since given up trying to explain to America that "abad" was an Urdu word meaning "inhabited place or city."

Though the Nations were tired and the day was warm, they boarded two government cars and drove into the city. They stopped at the Saudi-Pak Tower, a tall building with few windows and traditional Islamic blue tile works on the outer walls. "Hey, this goes way up!" America noted as the Nations passed through the front doors. "I didn't know you guys had anything taller than three stories!"

"Of course you didn't," Saudi Arabia rolled his eyes. "Pakistan actually has some very amazing architecture in the city. Perhaps we could look around when we have a spare moment, or after we have rescued the human. You would be amazed at how lovely the Shah Faisal Mosque is." The Nations walked right past the security guards. Having been warned of the arrival of seven important "people," the guards let them go.

"You're only saying that because your king helped build the mosque," Pakistan waved the flattery off as she led the group to an elevator. "But if we do go sightseeing, America and Afghanistan aren't invited. They'll do something stupid and cause havoc in my capital."

"Hey!" Afghanistan protested. "I'm not an idiot! I know how to sightsee without destroying things!"

"Really? I'm sorry, I must have been thinking of America," Pakistan retorted. She pressed the elevator's "up" button, and the door slid open. "You're still not invited." At a loss for words, Afghanistan stuck his tongue out at his neighbor. Pakistan responded by blowing a raspberry. Saudi Arabia, knowing they would go on for hours if not stopped, stepped between the two.

"Perhaps we should go to the office space Pakistan's government has rented us," he suggested. "America, an officer from your military is supposed to meet us there, if I remember correctly?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," America nodded. "He has all of our intelligence, as well as some paperwork my boss had sent over."

"Good, good." Saudi Arabia herded the Nations into the small elevator. Afghanistan started to protest as he was pressed against Pakistan, but was drowned out by Pakistan's shriek as Iran, who had raised his hand to shove Iraq away, accidentally groped her when Israel bumped into him. The door slid closed just as Pakistan slugged Iran in the face. He fell backwards against Israel, accidentally groping her as well. Israel, not one to punch people over an accident, instead kneed Iran between the legs.

Here Iraq, taking offense at the abuse Iran was suffering, seized Israel by the shoulders. "Stop that!" he shouted. America, who found all the activity funny, started to laugh. Saudi Arabia felt the beginnings of a headache.

By the time the elevator reached the top floor, it was the site of a near-brawl. Pakistan and Israel seemed to be dominating the fight, with Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan on the losing side. Saudi Arabia had pressed himself into a corner of the elevator: America had done the same. The doors slid open just as Iran and Iraq tossed Afghanistan at them: he flew out and hit the floor with an "Oof!"

Seeing possible routes of escape, or at least more room to fight in, Iran, Iraq, Israel, and Pakistan surged out after Afghanistan. Two Asian men stepped out of an office down the hall, saw the fighting, and promptly stepped back into the office.

"You could help stop them," Saudi Arabia suggested to America.

"What? Why would you want them to stop? This is hilarious!" America was nearly doubled over with laughter. Saudi Arabia grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him out of the elevator, stopping the doors from closing with one hand on the way. Once in the hallway, the five brawling Nations at his feet, he released America and resorted to a time-tested method of breaking up a fight. He yelled at the participants and separated them by force.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Saudi Arabia roared, picking up Iran and Afghanistan. Pakistan, Israel, and Iraq froze where they were. "Are you all children?!" Saudi Arabia continued. "What would your bosses say if they saw you?! Is America's attitude contagious?!"

"Haha—hey!" America frowned. "I don't act like that!"

"You would if someone groped you," Pakistan glared at Iran. "What was that about, anyways?!"

"I was trying to push Iraq, and someone bumped into me!" Iran protested. "Then you punched me, and I fell, and things got out of hand! Thanks for helping me out, by the way," Iran added to his brother. "Sorry I was going to push you."

"That's okay, I understand," Iraq shrugged. "It's probably my fault this started anyways."

"I blame Pakistan and her violent nature," Afghanistan spoke up. Saudi Arabia shook him by the collar. "Woah!"

"Seriously, I don't start random fights for no good reason," America persevered.

"I beg to differ," Iraq grumbled.

"Shut up, that was justified," America retorted.

"Quiet, both of you!" Saudi Arabia shook Iran and Afghanistan in lieu of Iraq and America. "Will you behave long enough for us to go into the office? It's a disgrace to your people, that you act like children!"

"Sorry," Israel lowered her gaze to her feet. "We are acting like kids."

"Hey! You were all for it a minute ago!" Pakistan shouted. "Stop acting like a mature adult now!"

"Maybe I am a mature adult," Israel suggested. Afghanistan snorted. "I heard that."

"Office. Now," Saudi Arabia shoved Iran and Afghanistan in the direction of the office. "America, Israel, Pakistan, Iraq, if you begin to fight amongst yourselves, so help me I will beat you over the head with Iran."

"Sir, I have a problem with that plan, and—" Saudi Arabia fixed Iran with his best glare. "…Shutting up now." With Saudi Arabia force-marching them, the Nations made their way to the office. The fight had messed up the clothing of all involved, as well as given Israel a split lip and Afghanistan a black eye. Pakistan was limping.

Inside the office, a man in a US Marine uniform was waiting. He stood next to a water machine, several files stuffed under his arm. When the door opened, he started to greet the first person he saw…only to stop in confusion as Saudi Arabia pushed Iran and Afghanistan in. The other Nations filed in after them, Iraq staying as far away from the women as possible.

"Hey dude!" America greeted the Marine. "Those the intelligence files we asked for?"

"Yessir," the Marine answered. He didn't know about the Nations, but some part of him recognized America as a figure of authority. Not military authority, exactly, but an authority. So he held out the files.

It was Saudi Arabia, the only member of the group that looked professional, who took the files. "Thank you," he acknowledged the Marine. "Was there anything else you had to give us?"

"Just my CO's best wishes," the Marine replied. "I understand this is about a kidnapping?"

"Yes, it is." Saudi Arabia handed all but the top file to the other Nations, then flipped open his file and started examining the contents. He didn't bother looking up as Marine shuffled his feet, clearly waiting for an explanation. Finally, Saudi Arabia glanced up. "Aren't you done?"

"So it seems," the Marine sighed. He made his way out, giving a final glance over his shoulder before the door closed. Pakistan was creeping up behind Afghanistan, ready to whack him over the head with her file.

Once Pakistan had been stopped and properly chastised, the Nations got down to business. Each one took a file and started to go through its contents: whenever someone found a piece of information they thought useful enough to share, they read it out and debated the merits. Nobody had found anything the group thought promising several hours later, until Iran spoke. "This might be something. An intelligence report about a compound fifty kilometers to the north of Islamabad. Earlier in the week, a truck was seen entering the compound with a small guard. Surveillance a day later saw a young woman with pale skin going from one building to another, then back to the original building in an hour."

"Pale skin? Meh…could be Li." Pakistan set her files down. "Saudi Arabia?"

"That's more than vague reports of increased guards and strange caravans in the night," Saudi Arabia agreed. "My question is, how do we know it's not some other woman with pale skin?"

"Right, I just have so many," Pakistan drawled.

"Li isn't the only white female in the world." That was America, brilliantly stating the obvious. "What if some other white woman was captured by these guys? They could have found someone else to use as a decoy, or used skin paint on a darker-skinned woman."

"True," Pakistan ceded, "but I like the way the report sounds. And what more do we have to go on?"

"I'll call some people, get more surveillance on that compound." America pulled out his phone. "And I'm going to ask for a team of SEALs in case we go in."

"Seals? Why not some of my Special Service Group?" Pakistan complained.

"America did start this mess." Iraq tapped his fingers on the table. "I'm all for letting him send in his people. That way, none of my citizens have to get hurt."

"And his SEALs are pretty good at what they do," Iran added. "Though I get the feeling my brother doesn't want to admit that."

"Hey!"

"Let's call a vote," Israel leaned forward. "All in favor of following up this lead, raise your hand?" Pakistan and America's hands immediately went up in the air. Iran's followed a moment later, followed by Iraq's. Afghanistan kept his down, since Pakistan's was up. Saudi Arabia hesitantly raised his hand.

"You're not raising your hand?" America asked Israel.

"I'm calling the vote. I'll only raise my hand if a tiebreaker is needed," Israel answered. "And it looks like we have a consensus, five to one. We follow up the lead."